


Lullaby

by ThatWildWolf



Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: F/M, Fluff and Angst, I Don't Even Know, Just A Couple Of Mass Murderers in Love, Late Night Conversations, Moral Dilemmas, Night Terrors, Nightmares, Nothing to see here, POV Garrus Vakarian, Self-Doubt, Shepard (Mass Effect) has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Short One Shot, Their Love Is So, Uwaaaaaa, Yes! Turians Can Sing, and if they can't who's to say i'm wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-26
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:54:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26667799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatWildWolf/pseuds/ThatWildWolf
Summary: "What if Sovereign was right?"He hates it when she says meaningless crap like that—because then it's his job to convince her otherwise, and that's something he's never been particularly good at. At least singing a song seems to help her calm down....The things we do for the ones we love.
Relationships: Female Shepard/Garrus Vakarian
Comments: 2
Kudos: 22





	Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> I woke up at 5AM, wrote this Shakarian one-shot, and went back to sleep, so honestly I may be more like Shepard than I know

Garrus woke up because he was cold.

It was definitely not yet the time to get up and he tried to stay asleep as long as possible, but that damn chill wouldn't give up. He shuddered as the cold pulled at him, taking him from the land of dreams back into his body. The coolness on his back was not something particularly fun, especially when all he wanted was to finally get some sleep.

His mind was still hazy, but he recognized the quilt had been pulled away and that was what caused all this coldness. (He usually wouldn't even cover himself to sleep at all, but humans apparently enjoyed slightly lower temperatures than turians. It got chilly in Shepard's cabin sometimes, especially at night.)

"Shepard?" he mumbled, blindly patting with his hand to see where she was and why she had taken the entire quilt for herself. Nothing. The other half of the bed was empty.

_So long, sleep_.

Garrus propped himself up on his forearms, stifling a yawn as he looked around. The lights were out and he had taken off his visor, so he could only roughly get a sense of what was what (and _where_ ).

"...Shepard?"

Opposed to his earlier assessment, she hadn't left the bed - she was sitting on the very edge, hunched over, eyes fixed on the ground. Praying, maybe? Garrus had never seen her as particularly religious, but she had mentioned some beliefs a few times, so honestly he didn't know. With what she'd been through, he honestly wouldn't blame her for turning to a deity.

"Oh. Did I wake you?" Her voice was soft and hushed, but not exactly a whisper. "Sorry."

Shepard exhaled softly and that was the only sound that broke the silence between them. The obvious question hung in the air, unspoken.

"I couldn't sleep," she admitted eventually

Not the first time that's happened, to either one of them.

At this point already given up on sleeping, Garrus shuffled closer to her, sitting by her side.

"Nightmares?" he asked simply. It was the routine by now, whichever one of them it was happening to. It always came from their mind, either stemming from sleep or preventing it altogether. Either nightmares or thoughts so intrusive they didn't allow them to fall asleep. They had long since gotten into a routine for either case, with how often it happened.

"No," she answered quietly. "Just thinking about things."

The worse one, then.

"Bad things?" He really didn't have to ask, but he still did just to be sure.

"Bad things." She nodded her head sharply.

"Do you... want talk about it?" Garrus asked awkwardly. He nervously massaged his shoulder, not sure if that hadn't come out too formally.

"I don't know," Shepard whispered.

"Do you want to... _not_ talk about it?"

"...I don't know," she repeated.

He carefully reached for her hand. "Should I Ieave...?"

"No, stay."

Garrus nodded. It wasn't an order, but coming from her, he'd treat anything as such. He was willing to follow her, whatever she told him to do.

She squeezed his hand, but other than that she didn't move. Garrus shuddered again. He really didn't like the cold. But what he liked even less was the idea of whatever Shepard was going through right now. And if all he could do to help her through it was just holding her hand in silence, that's what he would do.

"I don't like killing people."

He looked up, surprised by those words from her.

Shepard hung her head, staring at the floor.

"I don't even enjoy it anymore," she said quietly. "I used to. But that was before... this whole mess." She vaguely gestured around. "Now, I just... Whenever I have to kill another living being, I feel like a monster." She paused. "...What if Sovereign was right?"

Garrus stiffened, immediately going into alert mode. All sorts of warnings were flashing in his head now.

"Maybe organic life really _is_ just chaos. Look at us, we're still fighting each other even now. You'd think—" She stopped, breathing through her teeth, her anger just barely bottled up. Her hands, clenched into fists, were trembling. "You'd think everyone could put aside their differences in the face of certain death. I..." She exhaled, her breath was shaky. "I _hate_ this, Garrus. We're supposed to be fighting the Reapers, not other people!"

She stood up, furious, but her anger had no outlet and eventually she just slumped back down onto the bed, laying down on her back.

She glared at the ceiling in silent rage.

"Do you ever think about it?" She asked quietly after what felt like hours had passed. She had been silent for so long that Garrus had almost thought she'd fallen asleep. "About how many people you've killed."

Garrus looked at the skylight above them. "Honestly, I've long since stopped counting." He glanced at her. "Why? Does it bother you?"

"No... Not really—Not the way you think it does." She breathed out. "I really don't care about your headcount. But _mine_? _That_ bothers me. It's... probably in the thousands now. Even if it doesn't measure up to yours, it's definitely up there."

Silence again.

"How do you do it?"

Garrus looked at her—he didn't know what she meant. He sat up, tilting his head slightly to better convey his confusion.

"Do what?"

"You don't let it get to you." She narrowed her brows, looking at him analytically. "I've never seen you regret taking someone's life."

"...Right," he said quietly. "But why should I? If they wanted to live, they never would have attacked us. That's the job." He leaned his head back. "I have no regrets because I believe we're not the bad guys. The world is better off with those people dead. And you can't trick me into not enjoying a good fight, either. No matter what, I _am_ going to take pride in my skills. What's the point otherwise?"

"I wish I could be like you." Shepard sighed. "You're right, of course. And I enjoy a good fight as much as the next man, but fighting humans is different than fighting krogan. Both are definitely different than fighting Reapers." She clenched her fists. "But why do I hate it so much?! Everything you just said - it makes sense. Then why don't I feel the same? Why do those things bother me so much?"

Garrus shook his head. Did he really have to spell it out to her?

"Because you're a good person," he said eventually. "If you enjoyed killing as much as I do, this world would be in for a lot of trouble. It's good you have your morals. That way we can cancel each other out. Seeing you helps me remember what _I_ should be. You remember..." He shut his eyes, suddenly overwhelmed by flashes of his time as Archangel. So much blood. So much suffering—both experienced and inflicted. So much rage. "...I was lost without you."

In this darkness, he couldn't see what Shepard's expression was exactly.

"Lucky you," she whispered. "I think _I'm_ still lost."

Garrus opened his mouth, but no words came out. He would never admit it to her, but he worried about Shepard constantly.

He knew that in the morning, she would be back to her usual self. That once the sun rose, all that doubt and vulnerability would have been pushed down into some deep part of her self where she always kept it. There was no room for that in Shepard's life and she was nothing if not practical.

In the morning, there would be no sign left of this moment of weakness.

But for now she needed someone—and however selfish that thought might be, Garrus really liked to think that she needed _him_.

He awkwardly put an arm around her, pulling her as close to his chest as he could without physically hurting her (humans were so soft all over and he was always afraid he'd hurt her accidentally if he wasn't too careful) and hugging closely.

He rested his head on hers, the soft texture of her hair slightly tickling his throat as he did.

Softly and slowly, he intoned a simple melody, holding Shepard close to his chest as he did. The gesture wasn't for her sake and he wasn't even going to kid himself and pretend it was to protect her. The monsters she was facing right now came from within, not from outside—in that fight, she was alone. Garrus couldn't protect her—but he hoped he could at least calm her down.

He hummed a song he didn't know, every note coming to him just as he came to it, making it up on the spot. He didn't know where it had come from - as far as he was aware, he had no musical talent or knowledge, and yet he managed to come up with some simple melody. Eventually he realized he'd slipped into the chorus of _Die For the Cause_.

Maybe the turian imperial anthem wasn't most reassuring or calming song he knew, but it was the only melody he could think of. Was it Shepard? He still couldn't quite wrap his head around the way her presence worked on him. Sometimes she could be so intimidating it was downright terrifying, but at times she was also so damn warm and familiar that it felt like being home. Maybe that was why the only song he could think of when he was with her was one he had known since early childhood and had always associated with a sense of belonging. Because as undoubtedly alien as Shepard was, she awoke something within him that longed to be back home, away from this war and all the horrors that came with it.

Slowly, a hazy memory came to him, along with a simple, repetitive melody he softly hummed as he held Shepard close to his body, the vibrations rippling through his chest and partially spreading onto her as well.

The memory was old. Very old. He must have been three or four years old, if not younger. It wasn't so much an image or a scene as it was an array of feelings, blurred and fuzzy.

Some looming sense of fear. Crying. Had he had a nightmare?

Then, a soft comfort. The panic fading and replaced by relief when his mother sat down next to him.

A sense of calmness. Warm. Familiar. She sang a song whose words were lost to his memory. It was an old song, repeated by generations of turians before, probably never even written down as it was passed down through time to calm the hearts of crying children.

A lullaby.

Garrus intoned more confidently now, the soft notes of the song ringing in his mind more clearly now that he'd heard them aloud. The lullaby had a very simple melody, and its sound was soothing and calming even to a human ear. Even his crude arrangement could do it justice.

Shepard's breathing slowed down and steadied slowly.

"Can we go back to sleep now?"

She looked up at him and nodded without a word. Getting under the quilt, back to the comfort that Garrus had missed so much. And having the warmth of her body so close was also calming, much more so than anything else could.

"...Can you do that again?" Shepard asked quietly.

"What? The— The song?"

"It was pretty," she said simply. She'd never been one for big words. "Helped me calm down."

He smiled sadly, although he doubted she could see it in the dark.

"Then I'll gladly sing it to you every night," he whispered. What wouldn't he do just to give her peace of mind. Humming a lullaby seemed like a small price to pay.

"Is that a promise?"

His throat tightened. _Every night._ Those words meant much more than just this one time. It was forever, or at least until the end of their lives. Either way, it was binding in a way that made his heart jump up to his throat.

Shepard looked at him with those shining green eyes of hers, waiting for an answer and wondering why it hadn't come yet.

Garrus closed his eyes as he pressed his forehead against hers, nuzzling up to her. If it were up to him, he could stay like this forever.

"Promise."


End file.
